


Mission #7

by YourAverageNerd



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bucky Barnes Deserves Better, JFK assassination, M/M, OC, Stucky if you squint, i want to just cuddle him in a blanket, its good just read it, no seriously, the winter soldier is heartbreaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 15:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15146147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourAverageNerd/pseuds/YourAverageNerd
Summary: I want this done by November 23. No witnesses. I don’t want your best men on the job, nor your best women. I want HIM. Now, all I need to know is: are you strong enough to control the Winter Soldier?~~~He didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he was assassinating him, why was he listening to Colonel Brabotchik, why he was there. He didn’t know who he was, his past, his personality, anything. He only knew: Mission: Assassinate.~~~“He truly is HYDRA’s greatest weapon, isn’t he?”“Yes, yes he is."“If only Steve Rogers could see his friend now!”





	Mission #7

**Author's Note:**

> Hola peoples!  
> This is my first fanfic so its probably crap but give it a read. I quite like the way it turned out, but maybe that's just me being biased.
> 
> This was legit an assignment for a creative writing summer camp I'm doing, and when I finished it (because I can obviously never write something without putting one of my fandoms in it) I liked it so much I posted it on here. Because of that, this oneshot will probably not have as much violence and language as the other stories I post.
> 
> Yes, I have seen Infinity War (who hasn't?)  
> No, I don't want to talk about it.
> 
> Rated T for mild language.  
> Not beta'd (obviously) so please excuse any grammatical errors.  
> Comments and Kudos appreciated!!!

_ November 17, 1963 _

_ 06:00 PM _

_ Location: HYDRA Siberian Facility, Siberia, Russia  _

_ Coordinates: Classified _

 

“I want this done by November 23. No witnesses.”

“With all due respect Doctor Zola, that is impossible. He is traveling with a crowd, including a governor and his wife. Not to mention the his guards.”

There was a long silence from the radio. Just when he was about to talk again, Zola spoke slowly. “Fine. But make sure to frame it on someone. That way, you can do it publicly. All the better for us.”

Zloy Brabotchik sighed with relief. “Thank god he is pleased,” he muttered in Russian. 

“You know, while I don’t speak Russian, I can still understand it.” Brabotchik jumped at the voice that came from the radio. With amusement, Zola continued, “I am glad you try to please me. It is good to be feared, is it not?” 

“Yes Doctor,” Brabotchik said rather nervously. 

“Good.” Brabotchik could practically hear Zola’s smirk from the radio. “The rest is up to you.”

“Thank you Doctor. I will have my best men on the job.” Brabotchik assured, about to close the hidden connection, when a resounding “No!” echoed from the radio.

“I’m sorry, Doctor?” Brabotchik stuttered nervously, wondering what he said wrong. 

“I don’t want your best men on the job, nor your best women,” Zola stated. “I want  _ him.”  _

Brabotchik gaped for a second. When he came to his senses, he scrambled to find an answer. “Doctor, I can assure you, my men can-”

He was cut off by an impatient  _ tsk _ from the radio. “Your men are probably perfectly acceptable, but this is top priority. I am risking everything for this one job. All the trust I have built inside the U.S. government, inside S.H.I.E.L.D., will be broken if this one job goes astray. We need this to be perfect, and the absolute best we have is  _ him! _ ”

Brabotchik sighed, disbelieving, and haltingly said, “Yes Doctor. I will contact General Starshaya.”

A chuckle came from the radio. “I see,” Zola drawled. “You do not believe  _ he _ exists. You have not seen  _ him _ . Have you heard the tales?”

“Yes,” Brabotchik whispered, slightly awestruck. In a strangely monotone, yet chilling voice, he recited as if he had done it many times before.“ _ He _ is a weapon of destruction that took 20 years to craft to perfection.  _ His _ power and skill are unlike any other, unconquerable in combat.  _ He _ is a silent shadow in the night, and when you least expect  _ him _ ,  _ he _ strikes. May our enemies perish at the deadly hands of the assassin, the Winter Soldier.”

“You are wrong.” Zola said, and there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “ _ He _ was a good man. Strong, fearless, and above all, loyal.  _ He _ was one of the best sharpshooters of his generation, but  _ his _ combat skills were lethal as well. And we captured  _ him _ , tortured  _ him _ , and brainwashed  _ him _ until  _ he _ is how  _ he _ is now. There is not a single thing about  _ him _ that was left from the man _ he _ was.” If Brabotchik was startled by the almost wistful tone in Zola’s voice, he didn’t show it. 

“And... _ he _ is here? In this facility?” Brabotchik continued haltingly.

“Tell me, Colonel. Have you not heard screams?” Zola questioned.

“Those are from prisoners, Doctor,” he replied.

“And  _ he _ is a prisoner, is he not?” Zola chuckled. “Do you think what  _ he  _ does for us is of  _ his _ own free will?” Brabotchik shook his head, despite Zola not being able to see him. “ _ He  _ had the honor of being my test subject a few years before we captured  _ him _ . I have never met such a fierce man. It took us 20 years to break _ his  _ will, and even now, it still isn’t all gone.”

“I did not think of it that way Doctor,” Brabotchik replied. From his voice, it was obvious he was eager to learn more. Zola clearly heard it, because he shut down in an instant. 

“That is all you need to know. Inform General Starshaya of this as soon as possible. Finish the mission. Now, all I need to know is: are you strong enough to control the Winter Soldier?” 

Before Brabotchik could reply, the connection was gone. 

 

~~~~~~~

 

_ November 20, 1963 _

_ 11:30 AM _

_ Location: HYDRA Siberian Facility, Siberia, Russia _

_ Coordinates: Classified _

 

Brabotchik took a deep breath, then let it out, trying to calm his nerves. He clutched a small leatherbound notebook in his left hand. In his right hand was a gun. 

Brabotchik had visited General Starshaya and informed him of the situation. The General was the only person alive who had worked with  _ him _ , aside from a few doctors. He was certainly the only person alive who had commanded  _ him _ . The General had done a complete background check on Brabotchik, ensuring he really was part of HYDRA and not an enemy trying to control  _ him _ . God knows what chaos would ensue then. While old, the General was still very intelligent and very thorough. Once he had ensured Brabotchik was what he claimed to be, he told him everything. How to wake  _ him  _ up. How to control  _ him _ and how to handle  _ him _ . Most importantly,  _ his  _ trigger worlds. Armed with this knowledge, Brabotchik had gained access to  _ his _ room, a secret bunker underneath the facility that he had never known about. 

Brabotchik entered the room with three scientists, who immediately started to awake  _ him. He _ was frozen in suspended animation, in a cryotank that took up most of the room. The cryotank was fogged over with ice, but the figure and spare details of a man were visible. 

The legend was true.

“Colonel?” A scientist got his attention.

“Yes? Is there anything wrong” Brabotchik snapped, tense. 

The scientist seemed to understand his anxiousness. “He is ready. You start reading.”

Brabotchik took another deep breath and opened the leather book. He and General Starshaya had practiced the trigger words over and over and  _ over _ until he could not get them wrong. One slight complication, the General had told him, and everything we worked on burns and crashes. Thankfully, they were all in Russian, making them easy for Brabotchik to pronounce. He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them and began reading.

 

“Zhelaniye (longing).” Nothing.

“Rzhavyy (rusted).” Nothing.

“Semnadtsat' (seventeen).” Nothing.

“Vrassvet (daybreak).” A twitch.

“Pech' (furnace).” Nothing.

“Devyat’ (nine).” A twitch.

“Dobrokachestvennyy (benign).” Nothing.

“Vozvrashcheniye na Rodinu (homecoming).” Nothing.

“Odin (one).” A shudder.

“Gruzovoy Vagon (freight car).” 

And with that last word, the frost cleared from the cryotank, and the Winter Soldier’s eyes snapped open.

 

~~~~~~~

 

Brabotchik’s breath caught, and he was not ashamed to admit that he let out a small cry. 

_ He _ was standing in the cryotank, the door swinging open. Standing at about 6 feet,  _ he _ towered over everyone there.   _ He  _ was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of standard mission army pants. Brabotchik could see  _ his _ defined muscles lining his somehow tannish skin, but he could also see all of  _ his _ scars and bruises. Each told their own story of pain, torture, and suffering. They were scattered up and down his body, and were almost painful to see. Brabotchik knew exactly what had caused them, being on the giving side of the injuries many times. He knew he would never think about that the same way again. _ His _ left arm was gone, replaced by metal. A metal arm, shining and glossy with light reflecting off of it, that looked frighteningly lifelike.  _ He  _ was clenching and unclenching it, not a threatening gesture, just to move the cybernetic arm again. The way it moved was terrifying on how real, but still how fake it looked. There was a painted red star on the metal arm’s shoulder. Brabotchik’s gaze traveled up to  _ his _ face.  _ His _ rich brown hair was long, but surprisingly not greasy or matted. A light stubble covered the lower half of  _ his _ face, and  _ his _ lips were dry and cracked, almost bleeding. There were two large bruises on the top left and top right of  _ his _ face, which Brabotchik now knew were from the machine Zola had invented to torture and brainwash. And then, Brabotchik met the Winter Soldier’s eyes.

Brabotchik remembered Zola telling him that there was not a single thing about  _ him _ that was left from the man _ he _ was. He was very clearly wrong.

_ His  _ steel blue eyes couldn't just be called “striking.” They were captivating, mesmerizing, beautiful, but in a painful way. The Winter Soldier’s entire life story was told with one glance to those eyes. There was determination, but fear. Stubbornness, but compliance. Where there was once obvious happiness, only sadness remained. But, past all of that, there was fight. A fight to survive. A fight to not let HYDRA wipe  _ him _ away. Brabotchik knew that whatever Zola said, James Buchanan Barnes was still in there, and he was fighting.

Brabotchik swallowed, then stepped up and feigned courage. What happened next would determine whether the most important mission of this century to HYDRA would be completed, or if they would all die. 

“Soldat?”

“Gotovy soblyudat'.”

_ Soldier? _

_ Ready to comply. _

 

~~~~~~~

 

_ November 22, 1963 _

_ 12:27 PM _

_ Location: Dallas, Texas, United States _

_ Coordinates: Texas School Book Depository _

 

Mission #7: assassinate. Target: John Fitzgerald Kennedy. Occupation: President of the United States of America. Specifics: Frame an innocent. Make it public. Deadline: November 23, 1963.

This ran through the Winter Soldier’s head over and over again. Assassinate John F. Kennedy. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he was assassinating him, why was he listening to Colonel Brabotchik, why he was there. He didn’t know who he was, his past, his personality, anything. He only knew: Mission #7: assassinate. Target: John Fitzgerald Kennedy. Occupation: President of the United States of America. Specifics: Frame an innocent. Make it public. Deadline: November 23, 1963.

 

The time was now 12:29 PM. He could see the target in an automobile. The cover was open. All the better for him. He had picked an innocent. Lee Harvey Oswald. The man had no idea he was being framed. The man was proud, though. He would never confess, but never act innocent. All the better for him. He had made sure it was public. People were lined up in the streets to meet the target. He must be well-liked. All the better for him. The deadline was November 23, 1963. He had been flown in by HYDRA on November 21, 1963. It was now November 22, 1963. He would assassinate the target one (1) day early. All the better for him. 

The time was now 12:31 PM. The target was nearing. The Winter Soldier was as still as a statue, with everlasting patience. The perfect assassin. 

The time was now 12:32 PM. He looked down the barrel of his gun at the target, who was close. He had been told the gun was the most recently developed, best of its kind, and plenty of other information that wasn’t important. What was important was that it got the job done.

The time was now 12:32 PM. He put his finger on the trigger.

The time was now 12:33 PM. He fired, then smirked.

 

~~~~~~~

 

_ November 23, 1963 _

_ 02:30 PM _

_ Location: HYDRA Siberian Facility, Siberia, Russia _

_ Coordinates: Classified _

The Winter Soldier sat unmoving on a chair, being prepped to be wiped then put back into his cryotank. He had heard Colonel Brabotchik mutter urgently to the scientists, “Hurry. The longer he’s out of cryo, the more he starts to remember.” He didn’t know what he was supposed to remember. All he remembered was waking up in this exact same room, the mission, then coming back. 

“He is ready to go back into cryofreeze. This was a success,” said a scientist. He felt a jerk in his gut, and frowned, though the motion was barely perceptible. What was that? What was that…..feeling? Did he not want to go to cryofreeze? Was he scared of it?

“Yes, this mission was a success. Former president John F. Kennedy was shot, right in the middle of the street. Not even their best doctors could save him,” Colonel Brabotchik smiled, seemingly pleased.

John F. Kennedy. JFK. That was the man he had shot. Why? Why did he shoot him? What did JFK ever do? If he was surrounded by people, laughing and smiling with them, he certainly wasn’t a bad person. Then why was his mission to kill kim? Why did he comply?

“ _ He _ truly is HYDRA’s greatest weapon, isn’t  _ he _ ?” a scientist asked with pride, clearly unaware of the inner turmoil going on inside him.

He was HYDRA’s weapon? He didn’t want to be HYDRA’s weapon. He didn’t want to be a weapon, period. He was a man, not an object. And he was feeling something at the scientists and Colonel Brabotchik. It took him a minute to place it. Anger.

“Yes, yes he is,” Brabotchik said smugly.

Why was Brabotchik acting all smug about him? He was a person, not a pet! Why was he here anyway?Where is this room. Does he live here? He didn’t want to live here. He wanted to get out. To get out and find some answers. 

“If only Steve Rogers could see his friend now!” A scientist, cocky of his own work, realized his fatal mistake. 

It was like a dam broke. 

He let out a strangled cry as memories came rushing back like a rapid, swirling in his brain and giving him vertigo.

Living in Brooklyn, New York, meeting his best friend, growing up in the depression, his best friend, World War II, his _ best friend _ , getting drafted for the army,  _ his best friend _ , getting captured and experimented on by Arnim Zola,  _ his best friend _ , Captain America,  _ his best friend _ , The Howling Commandos,  _ his best friend _ , falling from the freight train,  _ HIS BEST FRIEND… _

Steve! The name came to him in a jerk. Steve Rogers, his best friend, his brother, maybe more. And then a swirl of names. Steve, Peggy, Howard, Dum Dum, Jim, Montgomery, Gabriel, Jaques. And then…

Oh no.

He was being held captive by HYDRA, literally his sworn enemy, about to be brainwashed. He was damn well sure he wasn’t going to let that happen. 

He had to find Steve. He had to find the others. He had to find Steve.  _ SteveSteveStevePeggyPeggyPeggySteveSteveSteveHowardHowardHowardSteveSteveSteve. _

With his metal armー _ when the hell did he get a metal arm!?!? _ ー he flipped the table he was sitting on to the scientists. Two fell to the ground, unconscious, but one raced to him, scared, with a needle. He was the one who mentioned Steve earlier. The needle probably had some sort of knockout drug or something. He didn’t care. With one blow to the head with a metal fist, the third scientist was dead. He felt absolutely no remorse.

He turned toward Colonel Brabotchik. Brabotchik was holding a gun to him, clearly terrified. “Soldat!” he said, trying to sound strong. The Winter Soldier saw right through it. 

“I am  _ not _ your ‘soldat’!” He growled, anger overwhelming him. To Brabotchik, he was just some object, some weapon. He slammed Brabotchik against the wall, strangling him. 

He didn’t notice Brabotchik stab the needle into him until it was too late.

He slumped to the floor, trying to hold on to one last sliver of consciousness. He knew that the minute he closed his eyes, he would forget. He would forget everything, everyone...he would forget Steve.

He dug his nails into his palm, hoping the pain would keep him awake. It didn't work. He was losing this battle. 

Before he blacked out, one last thought came to mind that he tried to hold on to like a lifeline.

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes. Bucky.

Steve called me Bucky.

My name Bucky Barnes.  _ My name is Bucky Barnes. My name is Bucky Barnes, my name is Bucky, my name is bucky, mynameisbuckymynameisbuckymynameisbucky _

 

My name is Bucky Barnes…….

 

~~~~~~~

 

Brabotchik sighed, still shaken up by the encounter that happened hours ago. He had memorized the exact moment the Winter Soldier turned into Bucky Barnes, the exact moment when a light entered his eyes. 

He was just glad that he was alive.

Brabotchik almost wasn’t this lucky. He still remembered the Winter Soldier’sーno, Bucky’sー hands around his throat. His eyes were cold and ruthless, but terrified. Then he watched as Bucky fell to the ground, chanting then whispering, “My name is Bucky Barnes…” 

But that wasn’t the reason his memories came back and he broke through the mind control. That was because of Steve Rogers. Captain America, but to Bucky, probably just Steve. The rumored file on James Buchanan Barnes said that Steve Rogers was his best friend. From what he had seen, they were brothers.

Brabotchik sighed and shook his head. No wasting time on that now. He a call to make and a report to give.

He went over to the encrypted radio, and called Zola.

“Mission #7: Successful.”

 

 


End file.
